Tea and Sympathy
by theturtlemoves
Summary: ONESHOT RLNT. A cup of tea can work wonders, or bring disaster. Set at the end of OOTP and the beginning of HBP, this is the story of two teacup liaisons.


_Summary: ONESHOT RLNT. A cup of tea can work wonders, or bring disaster. Set at the end of OOTP and the beginning of HBP, this is the story of two teacup liaisons._

_This is a long one. And yes, it's been done before - but again, this is just my spin on it. Mostly angst. Remus/Tonks angst. (possibly my favourite kind) And Molly Weasley too, just for kicks! (Really branching out :D)_

_To my regular readers (oh, it feels so good to say that!), sorry about falling off the wagon with my chapter fics. Hope this will ease the wait. _

_These characters and all the good things about them belong to JK Rowling. If you see a typo or a spelling mistake, that'll be me._

**Tea and Sympathy**

It was a few hours off dawn, but Molly couldn't sleep. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper sleep, but these past few weeks had been the worst. With Arthur and Bill off doing mysterious things for the Order and Percy still not speaking to them, she was nearly at the end of her wits. But now she had to deal with Fleur, too! It was any mother's nightmare, she told herself, and it was no wonder that she couldn't get to sleep.

She sat morosely at the kitchen table, reading a book without actually taking any of it in. It was a still summer's night, so late that even the crickets had stopped chirping in the fields. She sighed to herself. It might have been easier if she'd had a little company, but it seemed that no one else had come down with this terrible insomnia.

Of course, she mused tiredly, it was really just a simple matter of taking a sleeping potion like the ones she had always given Ginny when she couldn't sleep. But then who would be there to greet whoever came to the door? No, no … it was better that someone was awake in any case, better that someone was alert … just in case …

She sighed again and glanced at her clock. It was the same as ever – every hand pointing to 'mortal peril'.

All this worrying was going to bring on some sort of ulcer, she just knew it.

Moving slowly, tiredly, she put down her book and went to the sink to fill the kettle. A cup of tea would give her the energy to last out the rest of the night. As for the coming day, well – Arthur would be home in the morning, he would give her a rest. And everyone would be occupied with Harry's arrival, most probably, so it would be easy to disappear for a few moments in the chaos to take a little nap.

She prodded the kettle with her wand and it issued a jet of steam. _Poor, dear Harry,_ she thought with yet another sigh. She hoped that he was all right.

It was just as she was about to pour herself a cup that she happened to glance out of the window and across the front yard. Her heartbeat raced with panic for a moment as she squinted against the gloom.

The figure walking towards the house looked up and waved at her. She breathed a sigh of relief – it was only Tonks.

She poured a second cup of tea before going to the door.

'Tonks! It's rather late for you to be calling round, isn't it?' she asked, pulling open the door. A pale, heart-shaped face greeted her, framed by mousy-coloured hair. The young auror offered a weak smile.

'Wotcher, Molly,' she said, in a considerably less bubbly voice than usual. 'I know it's late, but I heard that Dumbledore was going to be here and I wanted to speak to him. I hope you don't mind?'

'Of course not, dear, I could use the company,' Molly said generously, stepping aside to allow the young woman in. She felt sorry for the poor girl – lately she'd been looking terribly under the weather. She shuddered to think the worry her poor mother was probably suffering at her account.

'Sit down, love. I'd just put the kettle on when I saw you coming across the yard.' Tonks sat and Molly placed the tea in front of her, along with the sugar bowl and a pitcher of milk. 'Dumbledore's not due with Harry 'til morning, but you're welcome to stay here until then. You could even take a nap on one of the upstairs beds if you wanted.'

She sat down next to Tonks, offering her best welcoming smile. Tonks replied again with that same small smile as before. There were dark rings under her slightly red eyes – Molly's 'mother instinct' knew that the girl had been crying for hours, possibly days.

'I don't think I'll be able to sleep right now,' Tonks murmured dejectedly. Molly tutted sympathetically.

'You look as though you could use it – not that I'm one to talk,' she admitted with a small grin.

Tonks forced a little laugh.

Molly was really quite worried now, especially when she remembered that even Arthur had noticed how depressed young Tonks had been for the last few weeks. If it had managed to reach that man's notice, it must certainly be serious.

She reached for the girl's hand across the table.

'What's the matter, dear? You haven't been yourself lately.'

'Oh, you know … the war being out in the open now, and all that …' Tonks answered evasively, before attempting a much brighter smile. 'Don't you worry about me, Molly. I've got a mother of my own to do that. I'm fine, really.'

Molly didn't believe her for a second.

'What did you want to talk to Dumbledore about?'

Tonks sighed and slumped against the table.

'It's … complicated,' she murmured.

'Most things are, at the moment,' Molly said gently. 'You'll feel better if you tell me, dear.'

Tonks stared at the table for a moment, frowning. Then she sighed again.

'It's … well, it's Remus,' she said resignedly. 'I'm worried about him.'

Molly frowned. 'Remus Lupin? Is something wrong with him? Poor man, as though he doesn't have enough problems already …'

Tonks cringed at this and Molly stopped short, waiting for her companion to go on.

'He's … I just thought that … Dumbledore's the only person Remus will listen to, you know that,' Tonks explained haltingly, sniffing back a few tears. 'I need him … I need him to speak to Remus, to tell him … to show him that he doesn't have to … that he could just say no, that he can …'

She slumped further forward over the table, her mousy hair falling like a curtain across her face.

'I've already lost Sirius, I couldn't stand to lose Remus too,' she whispered.

Molly patted her back hesitatingly. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to her next question, but she had to ask.

'Dear, are you and Remus Lupin …'

Tonks sniffed and straightened herself up, shaking her head.

'We're not, Molly,' she choked.

But Molly knew that didn't mean the same thing as; 'Of course not, Molly.' She bit her lip worriedly.

'I'm certain that Remus can take care of himself,' she said optimistically. 'After all, he was accomplished enough to be a professor at Hogwarts, wasn't he?'

'He's not like those other werewolves – the ones who follow Greyback,' Tonks protested. 'He isn't. But whenever he speaks of it, he always talks about 'his fellow werewolves' – it makes me ill. He hates it, Molly! He does, I know he does, but he's doing it because Dumbledore told him to. Molly, I can't sit by and watch him live this life, have him listening to all that propaganda about werewolves being less than human! I have to ask Dumbledore to get him out, to make him see …'

Molly squeezed her hand.

'You've spoken to Remus about this?'

'Of course! But he doesn't listen to me, he only listens to Dumbledore –'

'No dear, you misunderstand me,' Molly interrupted gently. 'I meant; have you spoken to him about how you feel about him?'

Tonks froze. She swallowed forcefully and blinked furiously to stop the tears threatening at the corners of her grey eyes.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

'I have,' she said in a tiny voice. 'But he won't listen to me there, either.'

'Tell me what happened, dear,' Molly encouraged. 'We've still got three quarters of a kettle and the rest of the night.'

--

_Four weeks earlier …_

The sparsely furnished cottage was dark even in the middle of the day. Tonks, having let herself in with a simple 'alohomora', took a few hesitant steps into the hall.

'Wotcher! Er …Remus?' she called. There was a crash from the living room. She followed the noise.

Remus was hurriedly pulling himself to his feet. It appeared as though her shout had caused him to fall off the couch.

'I thought I was supposed to be the clumsy one,' she said with a wry smile. He offered her a smile in return. She took it as a good sign that she had been allowed to crack a joke in his presence.

'You startled me – I must have fallen asleep down here last night,' Remus explained mildly. Tonks glanced at the floor next to the couch, where the remains of a bottle of firewhiskey were in plain view. 'How did you get in?'

'Through the front door,' Tonks said, raising an eyebrow. This earned another smile. 'You really should step up the security around here.'

Remus shrugged. 'Now that I'm no longer harbouring a dangerous fugitive, I didn't see the point,' he admitted.

There was a pause, a small one, where he seemed to dwell on his words and Tonks thought he might turn melancholy on her, but he somehow managed to bounce back.

'Tea?'

'I'd love some,' she said graciously. He smiled again and motioned that they should move into the kitchen. She was all too happy to oblige.

The kitchen was by far the most cheerful room in the tiny cottage, as the only one with windows large enough to capture the sunlight. Tonks took a rickety seat at the table while Remus filled the kettle at the sink with his customary care. She couldn't help but smile to herself.

Some things, she hoped, would never change.

'I didn't expect to see you so soon,' he admitted as he conjured a plate of biscuits and placed it on the table in front of her. She shrugged as she took one and popped it into her mouth.

'Thought I'd come by and see how you were doing,' she explained as he went back to the kettle, which was whistling merrily. He poured a little into two cups.

'That's nice of you,' he said with a smile. 'Milk and sugar, isn't it?'

She grinned.

'You remembered.'

'Naturally,' Remus placed the cup in front of her and took the seat opposite. 'Milk for colour and sugar for sweetness. What else would you have?'

He was smiling that benign smile that made her feel slightly giddy. To counter this feeling, she took a sip of her tea.

'And for you … no milk, no sugar – maybe a slice of lemon.'

'Right in one. A sour old bugger, that's me.'

She laughed. 'That's not what I meant, and you know it,' she said. He chuckled quietly.

'I know.' He put his cup down on the table and surveyed her for a few moments. Under anyone else's gaze she might have felt squirmy, but somehow those light brown eyes always managed to put her at her ease.

'It means a lot, Tonks, that you would come and visit,' he said finally.

She smiled in return.

'I thought that you might be able to use the company,' she shrugged. 'I know I could. And I owe it to you, don't I? Besides, I had to check in – you're a role model for the rest of us; how would it look if you fell to pieces all of a sudden?'

This actually managed to extract a laugh from him.

'Role model? Merlin, that's a new one,' he grinned. 'Good thing Sirius isn't about, he'd never let me hear the end of it.'

There was a silence. Suddenly the sunny kitchen seemed to lose a little of its brightness. Tonks stared at him in horror.

'Merlin's beard,' he muttered, going back to his tea, which he stirred restlessly. 'Sorry.'

'No, no … it's fine,' she said quickly. 'I mean … I'm not suggesting … oh Merlin.' She slumped a little in her seat. 'Do you want to talk about it?' she offered.

Remus considered this.

'No,' he said finally. 'Although I suppose I should.'

She nodded. 'Probably.'

He stirred his tea. She bit her lip. Sirius wasn't exactly the topic she had hoped to discuss, but she knew that she was one of the few people who could even have the slightest idea what Remus was going through.

'I'll miss him,' she said quietly. 'It's hard to think he won't come back.'

'Yeah,' Remus said tiredly.

'It's strange to think we lost the same person twice,' she murmured. 'It shouldn't work like that.'

Remus nodded. 'I know what you mean,' he agreed. 'I've been thinking about that too. And I can't decide which is worse – thinking he was guilty and blaming him for everything, or knowing that he's innocent but still the only one to blame for his death. Stupid, reckless prat,' he added without feeling.

Tonks sighed. 'He hated that house. It was bound to happen sooner or later.'

Remus nodded again. 'It was. It doesn't make it any less of a waste.'

There was a sober pause.

'He wouldn't want us to sit around moping, I guess,' Tonks said dispassionately.

To her surprise, Remus chuckled. 'You didn't know him like I did. The git always loved being the centre of bloody attention.' He smiled reminiscently. 'Him and James both, in fact.'

Tonks grinned in spite of herself. She loved stories about the Marauders. She always ended up wishing that she'd been born fourteen years earlier, just so that she could have been at Hogwarts at the same time. But there would be no stories today.

Remus drained his cup. 'More tea?'

'Yes please.'

'You don't have to rush off to work or anything?'

'No, I can stay as long as I want.'

'Good.' He smiled in his mild way as he poured her another cup of tea. 'I would hate to think that the country's brightest young auror was wasting valuable time in cheering up a depressed old werewolf.'

Tonks laughed. 'I think any service rendered today will be mutual, Remus,' she said. 'Depressed or no, I missed your company.'

'And I yours,' Remus said, still smiling. 'You are always a bright spot in my day.'

She felt herself blush slightly and quickly picked up her cup of tea to hide it. Remus very politely pretended not to notice. Instead he cleared his throat seriously.

'I am afraid,' he said, with characteristic care, 'that good company may become something of a rarity in my very near future.'

Tonks frowned.

'Why?' she asked bluntly.

He sighed. 'Dumbledore has asked me … to do something important for the Order. He has trusted me with something which could very well determine the fates of many in this war.'

She was suddenly intrigued – it sounded highly exciting. She told him so.

He laughed humourlessly. 'Somehow I doubt that 'exciting' is the term I would use. I have been asked to go underground … to meet with other werewolves, and turn them over to our side.'

Tonks stared at him, once again, in complete horror. She hardly noticed that her hands were shaking so much that she had spilled tea all over her lap.

'But that's suicide!' she exclaimed, before she'd had time to think.

Remus smiled in an accommodating way. 'You're exaggerating. And after all, who else but I has the … er … _qualifications_ for this particular task?'

'But … but you can't!' she cried, completely outraged. 'What if you're hurt? What if you're killed?'

He avoided her eyes and stirred his tea in a maddeningly calm way.

'You are an auror, Nymphadora. You understand the concept of taking on dangerous tasks for the good of others.'

'Yes, but this is ridiculous!' she insisted – she was nearly crying with frustration and indignation. 'I've heard the stories, Remus; I've seen the files! Fenrir Greyback is a ruthless animal! I can't understand how Dumbledore can think that your particular brand of reasoning could hold any sway over a … a _beast_ like him!'

'If there is only the slightest chance, I have to try,' he murmured. 'It's my duty to the Order.'

'Duty can go to hell!' Tonks wailed. 'It's you I'm worried about, not the Order! I'll go to Dumbledore myself if I have to!'

He looked up sharply, a light frown creasing his forehead. She stared resolutely back, although her vision was becoming clouded through threatened tears which were attempting to escape and fall down her cheeks. It seemed an age that their gazes were locked across the table on that mild summer's morning, though it may well have been only a few seconds.

Remus swallowed carefully.

'Surely you must see that I have to do this, Nymphadora,' he said quietly, pleadingly. 'These werewolves – they won't listen to any other wizard. I am one of them, however I might conduct myself in my everyday life. There is no other way.'

'Yes, there is! Say no! Tell him you won't do it! Remus, please, I'm begging you …' A tear leaked out and fell unhindered into her half-empty teacup. 'Please don't do this. It's too dangerous. I couldn't bear it if … if something were to …'

There was another pause. She dropped her gaze. Outside, seemingly oblivious to the miserable atmosphere in the tiny kitchen, a bird sang out to the summer. Tonks rubbed her eyes furiously.

'I'm sorry,' she sniffed. 'I'm sorry. But –'

'But nothing,' Remus murmured, reaching out for her hand across the table. The shock of his touch chased away the last of her tears.

'Nymphadora … I mean, Tonks,' he said gently, trying to catch her eye again. 'I know it's hard. I know because believe me, it doesn't get any easier. But I can't allow Sirius's death to stop me from fighting. If this is something Dumbledore needs me to do, if there is no other option, then I will do it. We all have to put our lives on the line for this thing. Sirius knew that. And I think you know it too.'

She shivered.

'Remus, I … I don't think you understand,' she choked, her voice coming out barely above a whisper volume. He frowned.

'Understand what?' he asked.

'I just … I … it's just that …'

'What is it?'

She took a deep, shaky breath. A nice cup of tea, maybe a bit of harmless flirting – that's all she had hoped for from this visit. It had been keeping her going all week. And now she was here, and what were the topics for conversation? A dead friend and werewolves. Brilliant. _May as well round off a wonderful lunch_, she thought, preparing to launch into her last, desperate plea.

The truth.

'I … I have a confession,' she said hesitatingly. Remus was watching her quizzically.

'What kind of confession?' he asked warily.

'The terrible kind,' she admitted with a sigh. 'The truth is … Merlin, I feel so horrible about this … but, you see …' she winced, wondering how to begin. Remus watched her patiently.

For Merlin's sake! How could that man stay so _calm_?

'That day in the Department of Mysteries, when Sirius was …' she began, hating herself even as she finally put voice to the thing which had been haunting her ever since. '… When he was killed, I was … well, I was on the ground, and I'd hit my head, but … well, the room went quiet, and sort of cold – Remus, I _knew_, I knew someone was dead, and I thought … oh Merlin, I thought …'

Remus was frowning. 'What did you think?' he asked quietly.

She looked up at him. He was still holding her hand in his and he squeezed it tightly when she looked into his eyes.

'I thought it was _you_,' she breathed. 'You, Remus. I was terrified that it was you. And then I sort of blacked out, and when I came to they said you were all right and I was so _relieved_. But then … well, when they told me what had happened I just felt … I felt so sick, so utterly _wretched_, because despite it all, despite the fact that Sirius Black was my family, my own flesh and blood; I was still, somehow, relieved that it wasn't you.'

He stared at her. She didn't think she'd ever managed to render Remus Lupin speechless before, but she had a feeling that this was not the best way she could have gone about it. He let go of her hand, his fingers sliding back across the table, tapping the saucer of his teacup, falling to his lap and then rising to his temple, as though he was not quite sure which response was most appropriate.

'I suppose you think that I'm a terrible person,' she said despondently.

He shook his head quickly. 'No… Merlin, no …' he murmured. 'That's not … I mean, I suppose I'm just …'

'In that case you think I'm a daft little girl with a stupid crush,' she moaned, thinking that she didn't know which was worse.

'I …'

He brought his hand up to his mouth, frowning and blinking unusually quickly. His eyes darted to her face and then away again. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so uncomfortable – this was a man who could joke (albeit in a slightly bitter, self-mocking tone) about his own terrifying affliction, and yet he had no defence to deal with this.

She watched as he cringed at some internal conflict, clearly steadying himself for the worst. She braced herself also.

'Nymphadora, I …' he faltered, took a breath and tried again. 'I know you to be an exceptionally bright and determined young woman and, well … I mean, you must understand … although the sentiment is not … although it is not entirely _lost_ on me…'

He caught her eye for the briefest of moments and she felt her heart pounding, _He couldn't mean …_

'And by that I mean, well … any man would be … but that's beside the point,' he concluded finally, with an odd firmness to his tone which seemed to come out of nowhere. 'You can't.'

Her heart, previously pounding so fiercely, seemed to stop beating altogether. 'Can't what?'

'You can't waste your life worrying about me,' he said, his gaze flickering away and avoiding hers. 'You are young. You have everything – a career, family, friends …' He shook his head slowly. 'You should forget about this – about me. That's what's best.'

She stared.

'That's … that's what you want, is it?' she choked.

He winced visibly.

'What I want for myself is irrelevant,' he said quietly. 'I know what I want for _you_, and it isn't this. I leave on Monday to join my fellow werewolves. I am no concern of yours, Nymphadora. Please … _please_ forget all this.'

Tonks recognised a pleading tone when she heard it. She swallowed.

'And if I can't?' she asked.

'You must.' He stared at her, imploringly. 'Surely you must see that it would never work between us? Please, Nymphadora. I'm begging you to forget this. No good can come of it.'

Her lower lip trembled – never a good sign. She knew she shouldn't say it, and she knew it wasn't even remotely true – Remus Lupin could never form such an uncharitable thought – but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she had time to censor them.

'So I'm good enough to cheer you up when you're down, but not good enough to be your girlfriend?'

The silence that followed was possibly the most painful she had ever experienced. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she tried in vain to sniff them back. Outside in the trees, birds continued to sing.

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, as though her words had stung him.

'No, Nymphadora,' he said finally, in very patient, measured tones. 'What I meant was: _I'm_ nowhere near good enough to deserve _you_.'

--

'After that, no matter what I said, he wouldn't budge,' she concluded morosely, seemingly past tears by this point. 'Sirius always used to joke that he was a stubborn bugger, but I guess I could never really believe it in him.'

Molly sighed.

'I'm sure he doesn't mean it to hurt you, love,' she offered half-heartedly.

Tonks sniffed and gripped her mug of tea tightly.

'I know,' she said tiredly. 'He means it for the best. He's got this damn martyr complex, thinks he's doing something noble in advising me to forget all about it … Molly, I just don't know what to do, you know? I've got absolutely no ground to stand on where he's concerned.'

Molly leaned on her hand, her elbow resting on the table. She couldn't help but remember the poor girl's parents, from her schooldays, and wonder if choosing _exactly_ the wrong person to fall in love with wasn't encoded in the Tonks family gene pool.

'So now you want to persuade Dumbledore to talk to him,' she said. Tonks nodded.

'Do you think I'm being stupid, Molly?' she asked earnestly. 'I mean, I can see that what he's doing helps the Order, but all the same I can't stand him doing it.'

'I don't think you're being stupid, dear,' Molly said gently, '– Merlin knows I still get jumpy whenever Arthur goes off to help the effort – but do you really think it will help anyone? I mean, it seems to me that whatever reason he has for pushing you away, it has more to do with his own demons than with anything that came from this assignment.'

Tonks frowned as she considered this.

'I suppose … you're probably right,' she murmured. 'Oh, bloody hell! Sorry,' she apologised quickly. 'I'm just so … gah! Why does he insist on making everything so bloody complicated?'

Molly reached across to pat the girl's hand comfortingly.

'It's a special talent of men, dear,' she soothed.

'And of werewolves in particular, I expect,' Tonks grumbled. 'I can't bring Dumbledore into this, you're right – the man has enough on his plate without worrying over this …'

'I'm sure you'll think of something, dear.'

Tonks sighed suddenly and slumped over the table. 'Maybe I don't want to. He's always been the one with all the common sense – maybe he's right. Maybe I should move on.'

Molly smiled sympathetically.

'A moment ago you wanted to demand that Dumbledore speak to him and turn him around – I think you've got plenty to fight for. Why don't I set up an 'accidental' meeting between you two, and …'

'I don't think that will be necessary, Molly.'

'Oh, all right. It was just an idea.'

There was a brief silence between the two women.

Suddenly, three smart knocks rang out across the kitchen. Tonks looked up, surprised; but Molly, her poor nerves shot to pieces through three weeks of late nights, jumped about a mile.

'Oh dear, oh dear,' she muttered, racing to the window to peer out into the gloom – but it was the darkest hour, just before dawn, and there was no light in the yard to reveal the visitor. She went to the door and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart.

'Who's there?' she demanded. 'Declare yourself!'

Mercifully, the voice that came in reply was very familiar indeed.

'It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry.'

She opened the door at once. There stood Dumbledore, smiling and nodding in greeting; and dear Harry, looking thin and malnourished but largely not too worse for wear.

'Harry, dear!' she cried, so glad was she to see him well – at least, as well as could be expected, considering the circumstances. 'Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!'

'We were lucky,' said Dumbledore, ushering Harry over the threshold. 'Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!'

'Hello, Professor,' Tonks replied to the greeting, her smile rather forced. 'Wotcher, Harry.'

'Hi, Tonks.'

'I'd better be off,' she said quickly, standing up and pulling her cloak around her shoulders. 'Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly.'

'Please don't leave on my account,' said Dumbledore courteously. 'I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour.

'No, no, I need to get going,' insisted Tonks, not meeting Dumbledore's eyes – no doubt she still wished she could blame her troubles on him. 'Night –'

Molly suddenly had an idea.

'Dear, why not come to dinner at the weekend, Remus and Mad-Eye are coming –?'

'No, really, Molly … thanks anyway … goodnight, everyone'

Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air. Molly watched her go, hoping that things would turn out all right for the poor dear. They said the path to true love never did run smoothly; but Molly felt, and she was sure Tonks would agree, that this was just bloody ridiculous.

_Reviews! A virtual cup of tea (however you take it) for all my reviewers – and a fictional werewolf to accompany it, if that's to your taste._


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